<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>angels don't give up on me today by Dabberdees</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560266">angels don't give up on me today</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabberdees/pseuds/Dabberdees'>Dabberdees</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1970s, Bisexual Characters, But like not much but Can You Hear Me? touched upon that so I'm putting it here as well, Episode: s12e07 Can You Hear Me?, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Period Typical 1970s attitude</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:36:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabberdees/pseuds/Dabberdees</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaz has a chance to help someone in the same way she was helped. If only she knew who she was helping.</p><p>For the fanzine prompt: Inner Demons.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yasmin Khan &amp; Graham O'Brien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>angels don't give up on me today</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The past.</p><p>For Yaz, she can never quite get over being a part of it, and yeah, the future and far off planets is just as exciting and adventurous, but there is something about the past that allows her to learn. </p><p>To feel.</p><p>To help in ways that might seem small. The Doctor is always there to tell them that their actions have ripples, but they always help, they keep everything the way it should be.</p><p>The future is unpredictable and chaotic; the past is foreseen and set on its course.</p><p>But even with those restrictions, she can still help, still offer support and aid to those who need it, like Willa or Rosa.</p><p>Or the young kid who just grabbed her attention. A backpack hung on his shoulders, eyes darting around, face turning away from the people walking on Southend's pier.</p><p>If it were the summer, then maybe he wouldn't have piqued her interest, but it's not. The chill of the winter air caresses her cheek, whips at her hair and she shudders from it. Never go on holiday to the coast in the winter. It's just not worth it.</p><p>Yaz pulls out her phone and checks the time. The Doctor said they'd only be here for a couple of hours, just enough for her to check over the systems in the TARDIS—a pit stop.</p><p>'Go out and explore,'</p><p>Was what the Doctor said to them and Yaz expected that they all would go, but they didn't.</p><p>'Southend?' Ryan raised an eyebrow at that. 'Couldn't it be somewhere nicer than Essex?'</p><p>Yaz instantly flicked her eyes to Graham, expecting him to refute it or defend his home county, but he didn't.</p><p>And that caught her attention.</p><p>'What year is it?' Ryan pressed on.</p><p>'The mid-seventies,' The Doctor replied in an offhand manner. 'I spent a long time living through the seventies.'</p><p>Once again, Yaz turned to Graham to see his reaction. The usual 'I was a toddler back then,' or just a simple anecdote about something only he would know. A pop-culture reference. A footie score. Anything really.</p><p>But nothing.</p><p>Just a foggy look on his face like he's trying to remember what he went into Tesco for.</p><p>'Seriously, guys, give me a couple of hours,' The Doctor interrupted Yaz's thoughts and the glazed look on Graham's face. 'Tops, give or take a few.'</p><p>Ryan hesitated for a moment. 'Can I play the arcade games?'</p><p>The Doctor glanced up at him and nodded. 'Money is in the bottom draw in the kitchen.'</p><p>And with that, Ryan was gone leaving her, the Doctor, and the still silent Graham in the console room. Yaz focused back onto the man. 'Graham?'</p><p>Graham blinked in startlement. 'Sorry?'</p><p>'Did you want to have a look around?' Yaz asked. 'It's Essex.'</p><p>Graham flicked his eye to the TARDIS doors and then back to Yaz, widening them like he just remembered why he entered Tesco in the first place. 'No.'</p><p>Yaz's brows furrowed together. 'Oh.'</p><p>'Uh, Doc?'</p><p>'Yeah, Graham.'</p><p>'I got, uh, something I need to do, can I stay in the TARDIS?'</p><p>The Doctor poked her head around the console. 'I don't see why not,' She shrugged before going back to what she was doing. 'Don't be noisy.'</p><p>Yaz frowned after the man before turning back towards the Doctor. Maybe Graham does have something he needs to do. Ryan doesn't seem concerned. 'Couple of hours then?'</p><p>The Doctor glanced her way. 'Yup,' She smiled. 'Go and have some fun.'</p><p>Fun.</p><p>Right.</p><p>If only she could. If only the look on the kid's face didn't stick in her mind.</p><p>'No interference,' The Doctor's voice echoes in her head.</p><p>Well, maybe a little wouldn't hurt?</p><p>Yaz pockets her phone and turns onto the pier, making sure to keep her distance so as not to spook the kid. She makes a note of his appearance. White skin with what seems to be blondish-brown hair under his hat, a tatty jumper and worn jeans and trainers. Skinny. She files these away as she follows.</p><p>Keep your distance.</p><p>Be ready to chase in case he bolts.</p><p>But what is she going to do if he runs? She has zero proof he's doing anything.</p><p>Apart from the fact that he's clearly up to something.</p><p>There's a wave of nerves that strike her core, settling in her stomach uncomfortably. Is he? No, he can't, but-</p><p>Yaz picks up the pace, heart in her throat when he approaches the edge of the pier, hands reaching for the railing and she wonders- Memories flashing quickly-</p><p>"Excuse me," Yaz shouts.</p><p>And the boy jumps, spinning to face her with wide blue eyes.</p><p>"You wouldn't happen to have the time, would you?"</p><p>He stares at her. "No."</p><p>"Oh," Yaz says in response. "I was just wondering-"</p><p>"Ask someone else," The boy grunts. "I can't help you."</p><p>He's young, all right, perhaps sixteen. Voice not fully developed yet, still changing. "Are you from here?"</p><p>The kid narrows his eyes at Yaz before tugging his backpack on tighter. "I told you to ask someone else," He repeats, unkindly. "I can't help anyone."</p><p>'You're losing him, Yaz,' A voice says in her head. 'Think of something.'</p><p>"It's a bit cold, isn't it?" Yaz states with a shiver. "Too cold to be out and about."</p><p>That causes a flash of something to appear on the boy's face. His eyes dart around. Feet shifting on the well-worn wooden decking, a hand clenching-</p><p>"Don't run."</p><p>He snaps his head back to Yaz again. "Did they send you?"</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"It's not important," The boy retorts. "Leave me alone."</p><p>Yaz raises an eyebrow and folds her arms across her chest. "At the edge of a pier in winter?"</p><p>The boy glances towards it and back again. "I was just looking over the edge."</p><p>"Nothing else?" Yaz asks, the question feeling uncomfortable on her tongue. "Because if you were-"</p><p>"I wasn't," The boy interrupts. "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction."</p><p>Yaz blinks at that. "Who?"</p><p>The boy sighs and shakes his head. "Let me go," He stares directly into her face. Blue eyes, a unique shape to his nose, particular ears. Weirdly familiar. "<em> Please </em>."</p><p>"I'm not sure that's a wise idea," Yaz counters with a sad smile. "Not when I know something is wrong."</p><p>"You don't know a damn thing," The boy snaps. "You don't know anything about me, so how could you know if something is wrong?"</p><p>Yaz takes a tentative step forward. "You're right, I don't," She makes sure to keep the eye contact, prove to him that she's at least willing to listen. "But isn't that better?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You don't know me; I don't know you," Yaz points out. "Doesn't that make it easier to talk?"</p><p>The boy's stance changes, relaxing somewhat. "You'll hate me like everyone else does or will do."</p><p>"Why would I hate you?"</p><p>"Because I'm wrong," The boy says with absolute faith. "Because I bring shame and embarrassment," He inhales, voice shaking. "Because my dad hates me."</p><p>Yaz is taken aback by the openness from the lad. His budding emotions slipping from his lips like the tears in his eyes.</p><p>And she's at a loss at what to do.</p><p>"I doubt your dad-" The anger on the boy's face stops that sentence dead. "Why?"</p><p>The boy shifts on his feet, and Yaz spots the darkness under his eyes. Shadowed. Raw.</p><p>"Because I'm-" The boy pauses, one hand running down his suddenly tired face. "-you wouldn't understand."</p><p>"Try me, mate," Yaz steps forward. "I know what it's like to be hated."</p><p>The boy watches Yaz, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing. His hand unclenches. "I was wrong to say that," Now that surprises Yaz. "My friend, Hasan, and his family, they-" He trails away. "-people are- they're Muslim-"</p><p>"I understand," Yaz helps him out. "Are you good friends with him?" She smiles. Kind. 'You can trust me, come on, mate, tell me,' She says internally.</p><p>The boy looks at Yaz. "We're not meant to be friends, I mean, we're meant for more than that."</p><p>"Because of your dad?"</p><p>The boy shakes his head. "I-" He looks around. Checking if it's just them. "I'm not worth your time."</p><p>Yaz laughs at that. Forceful as it may be. "I have a lot of time," She reassures her as she closes the distance between her and him. "They can wait for me."</p><p>The Doctor might save the universe on a daily basis, and maybe this doesn't compete with that, but Yaz doesn't care. They will wait while she does her job. Be it in the present or the past. She'll damn well make sure she does it.</p><p>"I'm Yasmin, Yaz to my friends, you can call that if you want," She extends a hand out to the young lad. "What's your name?"</p><p>The boy stares at the offered hand before taking it and shaking. "I don't want to say."</p><p>"I won't report you to the police," Yaz confesses. "How old are you?"</p><p>"Sixteen," The boy answers.</p><p>"And how long have you been running away?" That causes the boy to stare at Yaz, eyes widening that she could guess. "You can trust me."</p><p>"How did you know?"</p><p>"The bag on your shoulder, tatty clothes, and the shifty look on your face," Yaz sighs, releasing his hand. "I understand more than you think I do."</p><p>"I doubt you-"</p><p>"I won't judge you," Yaz reaffirms, quickly.</p><p>The boy exhales. "Hasan isn't just my friend, well he and I-" His eyes dart away. "-I like him a lot."</p><p>Yaz inclines her head. "You mean-"</p><p>"We're not allowed to see each other anymore," The boy explains. "What we did wasn't right, I shouldn't have returned it," He looks back at Yaz. "I'm a fa-"</p><p>"No," Yaz interjects quickly. "Don't ever call yourself that."</p><p>"It's true."</p><p>"No, it's not," Yaz says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. "You're just different."</p><p>"I'm wrong."</p><p>Yaz sighs. "The seventies," She murmurs under her breath. If Graham were here then maybe he'd be able to talk to the boy because he would understand the era he's from.</p><p>But he isn't, and she is.</p><p>"If you're wrong then I'm wrong as well."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I ran away for similar reasons," Yaz explains. Her heart thumps in her chest. Old fears being dragged forward. "Izzy Flint drove me to my breaking point," She takes a steadying breath and swallows thickly. "Why did you run away?"</p><p>The boy turns around and rests his hands on the railing, eyes closing. The only sound between them is the crashing of the waves against the supports.</p><p>"Why-"</p><p>"My dad," The boy answers, cutting Yaz off. "He forbid me from seeing Hasan, but that didn't stop the way I was feeling, Yaz, I still wanted-" His hands clench on the cold metal. "-I still wanted what he said was wrong."</p><p>"Did he hurt you?"</p><p>The boy shakes his head. "He wouldn't dare hurt me; mum would find out then."</p><p>Yaz quickly joins him. "Your mum doesn't know?"</p><p>"She doesn't need to know," The boy states.</p><p>"She must be wondering where you are, though," Yaz points out. "She'd be worried for you."</p><p>The boy shrugs. "It's better this way."</p><p>"Why is that?"</p><p>"She doesn't have to have a son like me," The boy murmurs. "I've seen the news, people like me are bad, they riot and cause damage to stuff."</p><p>"Stonewall."</p><p>The boy turns to her with wide eyes. "You know?" He turns back to the horizon again. "I saw it on the news, remember it. I know it was in America, but it was on the news here."</p><p>"What did you think about it?"</p><p>"I didn't understand it," The boy answers. "I was a kid."</p><p>'You still are,' Yaz thinks.</p><p>"I guess I just never thought about it," He continues, and Yaz lets him talk. "Until Hasan kissed me."</p><p>"You said you returned it."</p><p>"I pushed him off me," The boy reveals with a glance. "I didn't know why he did that, and it left me confused."</p><p>"What happened next?"</p><p>The boy taps his hands against the railings. "Nothing, well not at first," He confesses. "We stared at one another for the longest time, and I dunno, he leant forward and did it again, and I froze. Stupid, should've said no, pushed him away again, but I didn't, I returned it because it felt right."</p><p>"And there's nothing wrong in that."</p><p>"Tell that to my bloody dad when he caught us a few weeks later," The boy spits. "He kicked Hasan out of the house, grounded me, forbid me from seeing my mates," He looks at Yaz. "The only people he let me see were my friends who were girls, like that would fix the issue of me liking Hasan."</p><p>"No, it wouldn't," Yaz agrees. "I-" Her voice catches in her throat. She owes him an explanation. He told her about Hasan. She can tell him about Paige. "Izzy was my friend; we did everything together, we spoke about boys, she would tell me about her crushes, and I would listen."</p><p>"But you said she drove you to your breaking point," The boy repeats with a frown. "How could you be friends with her?"</p><p>Yaz smiles sadly. "I thought I could trust her, thought she would be supportive when I told her about my crush on Paige."</p><p>"She wasn't."</p><p>"No," Yaz grimaces. "She told her, then she told the entire school, turned everyone against me. They forced me to get changed out of the locker rooms for PE because they didn't want me there."</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>"You have nothing to be sorry about."</p><p>The boy looks down at his hands. "Do your parents know?"</p><p>Yaz nods. "They support me, even if my mum wants to know about my dating life," She smiles in fondness and annoyance.</p><p>"At least you have them to help you."</p><p>Yaz exhales and shakes her head. "I didn't," She admits. "I refused to tell them, didn't want them to know, convinced myself that they'd be like Izzy, that I would be better off-" She trails away. "I ran away, worried my sister half to death, she called the police."</p><p>"What happened then?"</p><p>Yaz looks out over the horizon. "I met a woman who made a deal with me."</p><p>"What sort of deal?"</p><p>"Three years," Yaz says. "Give myself three years, and if it got better, I was to give her a 50p."</p><p>"And if it didn't?"</p><p>"She was to give me £50," Yaz explains as she turns and faces the young boy. "I can't make the same deal to you; I can't say if your life will be easier," She reaches out and takes his cold hands in hers, gripping it before letting it go. "But I can say that it can get better."</p><p>The boy looks at her hand. "It's not better now."</p><p>"Now isn't forever," Yaz imparts. "A friend of mine would say something like that," She smiles. "If he were here he'd be better at talking to you."</p><p>The boy turns his attention back to the edge of the sea again. "My mum is probably worrying about me."</p><p>"I said she would be."</p><p>The boy looks down. "Thank you, Yaz."</p><p>"Sorry?"</p><p>"I might not get on with my dad at the moment," The boy states. "But she doesn't deserve this, she doesn't know, and she needs to know. I have to tell her."</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>The boy nods. "I'm going back."</p><p>"Where do you live?"</p><p>"Not far away," The boy confesses. "I just need to get the bus back," He smiles. Genuine. "I quite like the busses."</p><p>"Will you be okay?" Yaz asks.</p><p>The boy nods. "You told me about the three-year thing," He shrugs. "Worth a go even if you can't give me the fifty quid."</p><p>"I was hoping that you would give me the 50p," Yaz points out.</p><p>The boy smiles at her.</p><p>And she frowns. It's brief, gone in a moment, unlike the smile that settles in her head. Familiar, but why?</p><p>"I'd say I'll see you around, but I doubt I will," The boy catches Yaz's attention once more. "Thank you."</p><p>"No problem," Yaz says, and she watches as he turns away from the pier. "Hey-" She calls out, forcing him to turn back. "2020."</p><p>The boy blinks, baffled. "2020?"</p><p>"9th of February, 2020, meet me here-" She steps forward, stopping to pull out something from her pocket. "And-" Yaz opens her wallet and grabs a 50p. "-give me this."</p><p>The boy frowns at her as he accepts the coin. His eyes narrow in thought before snapping back up at her. "That's forty-four years into the future."</p><p>"Yeah," Yaz nods. "Remember it," She points to the coin. "And remember to give me that."</p><p>"9th of February, 2020," The boy repeats with a nod. "I'll try," He turns around again and heads away. "Thanks." He shouts over his shoulder.</p><p>Yaz watches for a while before turning and looking out over the sea again. She has a date request for the Doctor.</p><p>She can only hope that the boy remembers it.</p>
<hr/><p>The Doctor gave Yaz a look, something that if she wasn't currently busy she'd ask what it meant before she sorta shrugged and inputted the dates. Ryan simply raised an eyebrow at her.</p><p>And Graham was nowhere to be seen. Neither Ryan or the Doctor has seen him.</p><p>Neither seemed too concerned.</p><p>But either way, Yaz can't dwell on her missing friend. He's probably snoozing on the sofa.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>He did look concerned about something earlier.</p><p>No, Graham isn't her focus right now. The boy is, and he's waiting for her. Yaz doesn't waste time in looking around at the differences in time. She marches to the end of the pier, eyes darting about to see if she can spot anyone waiting for her.</p><p>Her heart sinks, and she pulls her phone out to check the date to make sure the Doctor got it right.</p><p>'9th of February, 2020.'</p><p>"No," Yaz mutters under her breath as she slumps onto a nearby bench. "Don't do this."</p><p>She rests her head in her hands, rubbing them down her face. Her thoughts spiral. Dragging her down the longer she sits waiting for a man she's sure isn't turning up. She's too caught up in thinking to pay attention to the man slumping down next to her, a bag of chips clutched in one hand.</p><p>"All right, cockle?"</p><p>Yaz's head shoots up, and she stares at him with wide eyes before feeling disappointed when she realises it's her missing friend. "Graham."</p><p>"You look disappointed, Yaz," Graham points out in his way. "How come?"</p><p>Yaz turns her attention to the horizon. "I was meant to meet someone here."</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"He never gave me his name," Yaz sighs. "I should've asked him again, but I got caught up in listening to him that it slipped my mind."</p><p>Graham hums. "Maybe he didn't give you his name for a reason," There is a rustle to her right, and she spots the bag of chips offered to her. "Want some?"</p><p>"It's okay, Graham."</p><p>Graham shrugs. "Suit yourself," He tucks back into them again. "They're good chips, Southend always does the best."</p><p>"You came here?" Yaz faces Graham.</p><p>Graham glances towards her, swallowing the current mouthful he has. "As a lad, yeah."</p><p>"Is that why you didn't want to have a look around earlier?"</p><p>"No," Graham says. "Oh, I got something for ya, by the way."</p><p>Yaz furrows her brows, baffled. She watches as Graham wraps the chips back up, shoving them on the side of the bench and rubbing the grease off his hands.</p><p>"Sorry 'bout the hands," Graham purses his lips as he struggles to get something out of his jacket pocket. "Should've given you this before I stuffed my face with chips."</p><p>"Given me what?"</p><p>"Hold ya hand out," Graham nods towards them. "Just the one, let me drop it into your palm."</p><p>"What?" Yaz shoots Graham a puzzled face but follows the bizarre order.</p><p>"Close your eyes."</p><p>"Graham, what is this-"</p><p>"Just close your eyes, cockle," Graham says. "It'll make sense."</p><p>Yaz sighs and closes her eyes, waiting for Graham to do whatever it is he's going to do. She hears the sound of something opening, a little clink of metal and then something being dropped into her palm. It's warm.</p><p>"Open your eyes and look."</p><p>Yaz follows the command again. Eyes locking against the silver metal in her palm. She picks it up with her free hand. "I don't-"</p><p>"It's a 50p," Graham says. "The same 50p that was given to me forty-four years ago."</p><p>Yaz swallows, and she looks up into Graham's face, catching the familiar smile. "No-"</p><p>"Yes," Graham snorts, amused. "The universe has a funny way of doing things."</p><p>"But if you were-" Yaz's eyes narrow. "-why didn't you remember me?"</p><p>Graham shrugs. "I spoke to the Doc when you and Ryan left, mentioned the entire day to her, she said something about how it's normal for things like this to be forgotten, I dunno, I stopped listening after she started explaining quantum mechanics and timey-whimey stuff to me."</p><p>"You were him."</p><p>Graham nods before picking up his chips again. "I did what I said I would do, went home and told me mum about everything," He smiles and laughs. "My dad didn't half get it; bastard deserved it."</p><p>"But then that means you're-"</p><p>"I'm just me, Yaz," Graham interjects. "I never really gave it much thought, I knew what I liked and what I didn't, that was it," He holds the bag of chips out to Yaz again. "I got a large. Thought we're probably gonna need it 'cos I bet you got a bookful of questions to ask me."</p><p>Yaz snorts and shakes her head. "Oh, you're damn right about that," She takes a handful of chips. "Was I right, Graham?"</p><p>Graham looks out over the horizon. "It took a while," He begins. "But it got better, a lot better," He smiles. "Thank you for showing me it could."</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>